One of Those Days
by M. L. Ayala
Summary: It had been one of those days. The type of day that crashes around you and leaves you trying to salvage what is left. It started horribly and has gradually gotten worse, but will the end of the day be as bad as the rest? Takes place after "Skin Deep."


Hey everyone!

I hadn't planned to write this, but after watching _Skin Deep_ twice and reading more Rumbelle than I am willing to admit, I couldn't resist.

I have to thank my cousin for letting me talk nonstop for a good 20 minutes about this story while we were playing cards, and for giving me the suggestion that I needed to complete this story :)

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><p>|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~::<em>One of Those Days<em>::~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|

It had been one of _those_ days. The type of day that drags on and on until you can't take it anymore and you're just waiting for it to end. The type of day that seems to brighten for just a moment before your whole world crumbles around you. The type of day that goes perfectly well for everyone else, but leaves you feeling so miserable that all you want to do is surrender, give in, leave the fight to someone else. It was probably hopeless anyway.

Except that it wasn't … no, it wasn't hopeless. That was what a coward would say, and he was no coward. Except that … he was.

Oh, how he hated admitting that. It tore at him every moment of every day since _she_ had left. But he had learned to live with it, to ignore the pain of what he had done when he pushed _her_ away, and just go on with life. Of course all of his efforts were wasted, because as soon as Regina had dangled that chipped cup in front of him, he nearly fell apart. All of the memories of _her_ had come flooding back to him when he held the cup in his hands. He was so focused on remembering every detail of their time together that he didn't notice when the sheriff returned.

|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~::_Emma_::~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|

Mr. Gold sat quietly in his cell in the sheriff's office. Emma watched him from her desk across the room and tried once again to piece together the story of the man before her. As sheriff it was her job to know which residents of Storybrooke were the most likely to cause trouble, and right now Gold was at the top of her list, which was slightly surprising since that spot was usually reserved for Regina. That's not to say that she didn't have her suspicions about the mayor's involvement in this particular chain of events; Regina had looked far too smug when she came to collect Henry several minutes later than the specified time, and she had been coming from the direction of the hospital, not the sheriff's office, which was odd when she had been so adamant about talking to Mr. Gold.

When Emma returned to the station with the ice cream that Gold had requested she had expected to hear another one of his snide remarks. Instead he had nodded his thanks and retreated to the back corner of the cell. Something about him was different and she was dying to know what the mayor had said to him, but she knew that if she asked he wouldn't say anything.

She shook her head and went back to sorting some of the paperwork on her desk. Glancing up again, she noticed something in Gold's hand. She tilted her head to try to get a better look at it, but his hands curled around it protectively and he hunched over it with his head bowed. As she watched him, Emma realized what was bothering her so much. Here was the man who all of Storybrooke feared, the man who owned the town and treated others mercilessly when they crossed him, and he was curled in the corner like a beaten dog. She may not have liked him, but she couldn't ignore the pain that he was obviously feeling.

She stood with a sigh and made her way over to the cell. When she was closer, the item that he was holding became identifiable. _A teacup … What-_

"Can I help you, Sheriff?" he asked, his voice sounding more tired than she had ever heard it.

"I was just wondering what you and the mayor talked about while I was gone," she kept her tone light as she leaned against the bars.

"I'm afraid that it's none of your concern, dear," he turned so that his back was toward her.

"I guess you're right," she narrowed her eyes as she said this, "but I do find it interesting that Regina has the ability to leave the fearsome Mr. Gold cowering in a corner."

|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~::_Gold_::~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|

_Cowering in a corner … cowering … coward …_

Gold allowed his gaze to leave the teacup in his hands so that he could glare at the woman who had dared to call him a coward. She had already turned back to her desk, missing his fierce look.

"I am not _cowering_, Ms. Swan," his voice held all of the venom that he could muster.

"Could've fooled me…" she muttered under her breath.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head over the teacup again.

A while later, one of the nurses from the hospital appeared, looking uneasy as she approached the sheriff. "Excuse me," the young woman said to Ms. Swan, "Mr. French asked me to come." Gold straightened when he heard the name.

"Oh, so this has something to do with the charges against Mr. Gold," the smile that Emma sent his way was just a little too bright to be sincere.

"Yes," the woman shifted nervously. She turned toward the cell in the corner and came toward him. Normally he would have enjoyed the hint of fear in her eyes, but now he felt no pleasure in his role as 'the fearsome Mr. Gold,' as Emma had called him. "Mr. French wants to make a deal with you," the woman's frown made it clear what she thought of this idea.

"Does he now?" Gold's eyes flashed dangerously. "What is it that he wants?" Emma stood, about to protest. "Now, Ms. Swan, there's no need for alarm. I'm quite sure that Mr. French and I won't be making any more deals. I am, however, quite interested to hear what he thinks he has to offer."

"Mr. French has offered to drop all charges," Emma gasped and tried to interrupt, but Gold spoke first.

"In exchange for?" he tried to keep the interest out of his voice. It was difficult since he found it hard to believe that the man would want anything to do with him after what had happened. It was a deal that had led them to where they were now, though not the one that Moe French remembered making. If only _she_ hadn't been so willing to go with him to save her people so long ago…

"He will drop the charges if you'll return his van and release him from all of his debts, and afterwards you are to stay away from him." She was waiting for a response, as was Ms. Swan who seemed to be holding her breath.

Gold ran a finger around the teacup's rim, stopping at the chip. The chip that _she _had made. She would hate seeing him now, what he had become since her death. _What should I do, Belle?_ The thought startled him. He stood up and paced a few steps toward the front of the cell, then a few steps back. Touching the chip again, he pictured her beautiful face. She was always so forgiving, understanding, trusting; she would have encouraged him to accept this deal, even after what had been done to her. Somehow she would have found a way to forgive her father for the torture that he had put her through. Gold had never understood that about her.

"Tell Mr. French that I accept his terms," the nurse nodded and rushed out of the station, completely oblivious to the slight pause that he had put before the word 'accept.' However, it seemed that Ms. Swan had picked up on it.

"Wow, he must have owed you a lot, huh?" her voice was strained and he could see how annoyed she was that he would walk away from this without any serious punishment.

"Yes, he owed me," Gold was content to leave their conversation at that, and Emma had come to unlock the door, there was no reason for him to say anything else. So it was a surprise to both of them when, on his way out of the station he added over his shoulder, "but he owed _her_ more."

|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~::_Emma_::~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|

Emma watched as Mr. Gold left her office, her mouth open as she tried to find something to say to him. By the time she finally found her voice Gold was long gone. _This would be so much easier if he would just tell me what happened…_ she thought bitterly. _Maybe it's time that I do a little digging…_

|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~::_Gold_::~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|

_Why? Why did I say that? Why did I say anything?_ Gold walked as fast as he could toward his shop, cursing himself for confirming what Ms. Swan had already guessed: there was more between him and Moe French than just a theft and a deal gone wrong. That was all that she would need to make herself a nuisance. No doubt she would go digging into his past to try to discover who the person was that he had been talking about. She wouldn't find anything, though. He had checked when they first arrived in Storybrooke, and there was absolutely no record of her, not even a record of her death. She had never existed in this world, so there wasn't even a grave that he could visit.

He had never realized just how true her words had become until today, when he found himself walking through town cradling a chipped cup in one hand and leaning heavily on his cane with the other. _An empty heart … and a chipped cup …_ her voice, thick with unshed tears, seemed to surround him and he stumbled to a stop. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Gold started walking again. He knew that he should check on his shop and make sure that nothing had happened during his brief stay in the sheriff's office, but the delicate china cup needed to be returned to the safety of his home before it suffered any damage. If he were to lose that cup, then he would have lost one of the last ties that he had to _her_.

More than one person stopped to stare at him before quickly turning and walking away. _Good_, he thought, _that's how it should be. They should all fear me_. He ignored the pain and loneliness that came over him when he thought of the one person who had stubbornly refused to fear him.

Once the cup was safely back in its place, Gold ran a finger along the chip one more time before leaving for his shop. On his way out the door he glanced at the clock and frowned. It was barely noon. Somehow that didn't seem possible. He was absolutely certain that he had spent the majority of the day in that cell, yet this clock was telling him that the day was only halfway over. With a sigh that showed just how tired he was, Gold walked outside and locked the front door behind him. A trip to Granny's for a cup of tea and some lunch would probably be a good idea, before he went back to his shop.

|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~::_Mary Margaret_::~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|

Mary Margaret was sitting at her usual table when Mr. Gold walked into Granny's. Everyone turned to stare at him before turning back to their hushed conversations. Nervous looks were frequently directed his way and it was obvious that the topic of all conversation was now Gold's encounter with Moe French and his following arrest. Mary Margaret watched Gold cross the diner as he pretended that he didn't notice the sideways looks he was receiving. He sat down at a table in the back corner and waited for Ruby to come take his order.

There was something different about the way that he carried himself today, and Mary Margaret couldn't help feeling just a little bit sorry for the man, even after what he'd done. News had traveled fast throughout the small town. She would be surprised if there was anyone in Storybrooke who didn't know about how he had nearly beat Moe French to death with his cane the night before and had mysteriously been released without any charges this morning. She made a mental note to ask Emma about that later. The other story circulating about Gold was bizarre as well, something about a teacup. She hadn't paid much attention to that one.

Gold kept his head down when Ruby brought him his cup of tea, and he seemed to shrink back even further into the corner after she walked away. Something was definitely wrong, and everyone could see that. After a few more moments of discrete scrutiny, the rest of the diners turned their attention away from Gold. Mary Margaret considered going over to ask if he was okay, but the thought was abruptly pushed aside when David came in and took a seat at the booth next to her table.

|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~::_Gold_::~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|

Gold tried to ignore all of the looks that he was getting when he walked into Granny's and headed straight for the back corner. After several minutes everyone seemed to accept his presence - albeit uneasily - and returned to their previous conversations. The laughter and cheery voices that floated through the diner made him even more aware of his own misery.

Ruby was trotting around in her usual skimpy outfit, making jokes and witty remarks as she served customers. Ashley was showing off her new engagement ring to a group of girls. Sydney Glass was scribbling down notes as he listened in on other conversations, most likely so that he could report back to Regina at the next opportunity and try to regain her favor. And off to the side, thinking that they were invisible to the world, David Nolan and Mary Margaret Blanchard traded lovesick glances across the space between their two tables. It made him feel sick, and he hardly touched his food when Ruby brought it over to him. He ended up leaving shortly after, feeling too restless to stay any longer.

The walk to his shop would have settled him under normal circumstances, but today it did nothing for him. The near loss of his most precious possession and then the forced confession that, yes, he did remember who he was, had set him on edge. _This is unacceptable_, he scowled at his reflection in the window as he unlocked the door to his shop. Walking to the back of the shop, he scanned everything to make sure that it was all in its proper place. As he came back to the front of the shop, he heard a faint rustling sound and then the bell on the door rang loudly as though someone had thrown the door open. Gold saw a dark haired figure running past the window and went to get a better look at who it was when something on the counter caught his eye. There, next to the register, lay a long stemmed rose in full bloom, like the one that he had given _her_ so long ago.

Gold's breath caught in his throat and he reached out with trembling fingers. The petals were silk and it was surprisingly heavy when he lifted it. He looked up at the window again but there was no one in sight. _Could it have been … ? No. This has to stop_, he told himself. _She. Is. Gone. And it's your fault. There will be no second chance, no tearful reunion, no happily ever after. Not for you, Rumplestiltskin._

The brief peace he had found upon entering his shop had fled and he was shaking once again. He started toward the door, with the intention of going home, but stopped himself. The only things that were waiting for him at home were a chipped cup and a house that felt as empty as his heart. With a deep and weary sigh he lowered himself onto a chair behind the counter and closed his eyes. He would wait until his regular closing time, even though it was unlikely that anyone would be coming in today.

|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~::_Regina_::~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|

Regina sat at her desk in the mayor's office, reading Sydney Glass's latest report. She had heard earlier that Moe French had dropped all charges against Mr. Gold and that the sheriff had released him soon after. It had taken some serious self control to keep from marching straight over there and asking Sheriff Swan just what the hell she thought she was doing, releasing Gold from prison. Regina knew that that would be a bad idea. Emma Swan caused enough trouble as it was. She certainly didn't need to be nosing around in this issue. Not that she would find anything.

There had to be some rule, some law, something, against releasing Gold so soon. Regina had wanted him to sit and suffer for a while longer. She knew how much he hated bing trapped, and while no prison could hold him forever, she had enjoyed seeing the powerful Rumplestiltskin behind bars again. It had been even better when she forced him to reveal that he remembered who he was. The expression on his face as he had spat his name at her had been priceless. And all of this over a chipped cup.

_What would he do, I wonder, if he knew…_ A smug smile crossed her face. He still believed that he held all the cards; he had no idea about the ace up her sleeve. Or, more accurately, the girl in her dungeon. _Oh yes, we will see, Rumplestiltskin, we will see._

Her musings were cut short by her phone ringing. "Hello?" she straightened suddenly at the words coming from the person at the other end of the line. "_What?_"

|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~::_Gold_::~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|

Gold sat up slowly, blinking at the dim light of his shop. He had fallen asleep leaning on the counter next to the register, the rose clutched in his hand. When he looked outside through the window he realized that night had fallen. The clock on the wall behind him read 8:30. He stood with some difficulty, stiff muscles protesting after so long in such an uncomfortable position. Looking down at the rose in his hand he flinched, realizing that he had held it so tightly the thorns had cut into his hand. He'd been dreaming and hadn't noticed the pain.

As he turned off the lights and locked the door, images from his dream flashed before his eyes. He set off down the street toward his house in a daze. Curly brown hair, blue eyes that seemed shy and confident at the same time, a brave and caring smile. He had avoided thinking of her for so long, so very long, that now, when all of his memories of _her_ come flooding back it was too much for him. Everything about today had been too much for him.

He was so distracted as he walked that he didn't notice Regina watching him from her car parked across the street, fear and panic barely hidden behind her cold expression. Apparently satisfied with what she saw, the fear faded, but the panic didn't, and she drove off before she was noticed.

Gold had taken two wrong turns and had backtracked several times on his walk home when the sheriff stopped him. He mumbled some excuse for why he was wandering the town at such a late hour when she questioned him. She gave him a wary look that said she knew he was lying but didn't ask anymore, for which he was grateful.

"You know," she fell into step beside him, causing Gold to grit his teeth. He wanted to be _alone_, couldn't she see that? "Regina stopped by my office a little while ago. She was asking me a lot of questions about you, which is weird, even for her. Seems like she's up to something…" Emma trailed off when she saw that he wasn't listening. "Something bothering you?"

"Ms. Swan," he stopped and turned to her, expression carefully blank, "it's been a long day, so if you'll excuse me, I'm going home." Gold started walking again, faster this time, and allowed himself a small sigh of relief when the sheriff didn't follow.

A few seconds passed before she shouted after him. "Mr. Gold!" he looked over his shoulder and found that she had a grim smile on her face.

"Something amusing you, dear?"

"I believe your house is the other way," she turned sharply on her heel and walked across the street, heading to her own home. Gold stared after her, about to ask what on earth she was talking about, when he realized that she was right. He bit back a curse and corrected his path.

He couldn't imagine anything that could make this day any worse.

|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~:_?:?:?_:~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|

_So much dust … how long has it been since this place has been cleaned? We'll have to fix that._

_There must be a duster around here somewhere… ah, there it is. Buried in the back of a closet, what a surprise._

_At least the curtains aren't nailed down this time…_

_Doesn't he keep any food in this house? These cupboards are completely bare. I guess some things never change. At least he has tea…_

_Eep! That's the fifth time I've tripped! Really, there's no room to walk in here. Some of this clutter needs to be cleaned out, but I think I'll wait. He can be so particular with his things._

_Oh, I remember that painting … and that vase … I've never seen that before … hmm, that must be new …_

_Is this … no, it can't be … but it looks just like it … my dress … I wonder ..._

_What's this? A chipped cup locked in a display cabinet? Now that simply won't do. I have some place much better for you, my friend._

|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~::_Gold_::~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|

Gold had finally managed to make it to his street. After his brief run in with Ms. Swan he'd taken extra care not to take anymore wrong turns. It had been hard, his mind kept wandering to a certain blue eyed beauty and his heart ached more with every step. _What I wouldn't give for a chance to tell her how sorry I am_, he thought as he walked up to the front door.

He'd unlocked the door and pushed it halfway open before he realized that the lights were on in the house. Gold froze, took a deep breath, stepped inside and shut the door softly. He studied his surroundings for signs of an intruder and was surprised by what he found. Layers of dust that had built up over the years had disappeared. Every surface was clean and gleaming, every trinket sparkled under the lights that hadn't been used in ages. The carpets had been cleaned, too, so much that the colors almost glowed, making him wonder how he'd never noticed the patterns on them before now.

A tea kettle let out a shrill whistle from the kitchen, drawing his attention from the spotless state of the front sections of the house to the sounds and smells floating through the air. He nearly stumbled as he walked down the hallway. There was a nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him that he'd finally lost it, snapped, gone completely _insane_. Because there was no way - absolutely positively no way in this world or the other - that _she_ would be at _his_ house. And certainly not after the day that he'd had. That idea was far too good to be true.

And yet … _there she was!_

Her back was to him, but there was no mistaking her. _Belle … I really must have lost my mind_. She was wearing a gold dress, the one that she'd worn the first time they had met. He had stored it in a trunk upstairs when he'd come across it in this world, another painful reminder of what he had lost.

"You haven't lost your mind," she whispered, and her voice was like silk, soft and smooth, and so much richer than he remembered. "I hope you don't mind, I found the dress while I was cleaning, and it was really the only thing that would fit me. Besides, it did belong to me, did it not?" There was laughter hidden in her words, and he could do nothing but gape at her back. "It took me quite some time to find where you'd stashed the food. I would have had dinner finished if not for that."

Gold tried to move, tried to go to her, tried to run away. He was frozen and he couldn't breathe, because every second that passed convinced him that, while he most certainly had lost his mind, she was here. And she was real. There was no way that he could imagine a meeting like this.

She half turned so that she could look at him and smiled that smile that made him forget everything else in the world. "Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to sit down and have some tea?" She turned fully now, holding out a delicate china cup with a chip in the rim. "Rumplestiltskin?"

He limped toward her, having dropped his cane when she said his name, and reached out to wrap his trembling hands around her steady ones. They held the teacup between them, her smile never faltering.

|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|

_Who would have thought it possible, that the Beauty would be able to hand the Beast a full heart in a chipped cup?_

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><p>Reviews make me smile :) Please let me know what you think!<p> 


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